


Rules & Traditions

by lucdarling



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Come Marking, Condoms, Cunnilingus, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality, F/M, Loss of Virginity, Object Insertion, Oral Sex, Orgasm Denial, Post-Season/Series 01, Pussy Spanking, Rough Sex, Spanking, Underage Sex, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-16
Updated: 2018-01-16
Packaged: 2019-03-05 10:50:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13386255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucdarling/pseuds/lucdarling
Summary: It's a Riverdale tradition that, no matter your own sentence, your children must spend a night paying for your crimes. When FP was arrested for Jason's murder, Jughead was delivered to the Blossom household. After Clifford is revealed to be the murderer instead, it's decided that the beating was more than enough to cover the crimes FP did commit, and he is set free.But what about the sleuthing Coopers, who printed false information in the Register? The sheriff who let Clifford Blossom orchestrate his questioning? Fred and Hermione, who gave character statements against FP that omitted the crucial detail that FP was trying to turn his life around, that FP helped them keep Clifford's Canadian goons at bay? All of these people have now technically committed crimes against FP under the town charter.FP knows no court in the state would let him take revenge on all of them. However, he'd be the town laughingstock if he didn't demand his due from at least one of those families.





	1. Veronica

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [a prompt on the riverdale-kinkmeme in July 2017.](https://riverdale-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/1356.html?thread=330572#cmt330572)  
> This is almost entirely PWP, the tags give it all away.

“You all know why you’re here,” FP says. He doesn’t raise his voice, there’s no need when it’s just four kids in front of him. The Serpents form a ring around them, stopping them from leaving the trailer park.

“I think you’re pretty smart kids, to tell the truth. Who else would have been so bold so as break into my home?” His eyes settle on the Lodge girl. Archie Andrews isn’t here, but FP doesn’t mind. It’s more important Fred have someone at his bedside when he does wake up. Being without his parent is punishment enough for the kid. “I think all of you know how the rules of this works. None of your parents can stop me and I’m the deciding factor in when you’ve paid enough. It was your parents who put you in this position, just remember that.” He gives them a smile and it’s not a nice look.

FP’s got no interest in men let alone teenaged boys but luckily, he knows someone who does. “Joaquin!” The look of shock on the face of the sheriff’s kid’s face is priceless as his Serpent steps forward. “Not before midnight, you hear?”

Joaquin nods and takes his boyfriend’s hand. They’d discussed this plan during one of Jughead’s many naps in recent days and his gang member had been surprisingly forthright about what would punish his boyfriend. A teenager brought to the edge again and again for hours sounded just fine to FP. Even better that he had someone willing to stroke that cock instead of him.

“What’s going on?” the kid cries and it’s echoed by the others from Riverdale proper. The Keller kid is tugged through the line of Serpents, stumbling after Joaquin and FP watches from the trailer steps as he hands over a helmet, straps it on because the kid’s fingers are shaking too hard and then they’re off into the night on the back of a rumbling motorcycle.

“Where did Kevin go? What’s Joaquin going to do to him?”

“This isn’t the way it works! You’re supposed to mete out the punishment!” FP never thought he’d hear a Blossom advocate for following the rules and he laughs. He hasn’t had much cause to laugh the last few days, taking care of his son’s bruises and near broken spirit. It feels good.

“Rules don’t matter much here on the Southside,” FP says as his laughter dies. “Like I said, I’m the one directing this show. So here’s how it’s gonna work. I’m gonna call you one at a time and you’re not gonna put up a fight. I promise you won’t like it if you do. Don’t be smart and I won’t be too hard.”

The girls in front of him nod as one. FP can see the trembling of the Cooper girl even as she clenches her small hands into fists. It might be nice to take her inside first but that isn’t the way FP had tonight planned out. He hates it when a plan doesn’t follow suit and tonight is more important than most. It’s his turn to show the town what FP Jones is capable of, it’s his chance to remind Riverdale that the South Side might be trash but they get even. Especially when one of their own is hurt, let alone an innocent kid like Jughead.

“Ms. Lodge, if you’d be so kind?” FP holds the trailer door open and gestures for her to walk in. There’s no trace of Hermione’s haughtiness in her gait, head kept down toward the gravel as she walks. This might be easier than FP thought.

He lets her precede him and swats at her ass as he follows her. The laughter of the Serpents only cuts off when the door slams shut.

Veronica stands in the main room of the trailer, hands clasped in front of her. She looks at FP warily.

“Strip, unless you want that fancy top of your to be stained.” he says. He takes a seat in his favorite over-stuffed chair as she shakily unzips the jacket.

FP palms himself lazily through his jeans as Veronica unbuttons her blouse.

Her tits are smaller than one would think but FP doesn’t mind. He motions and Veronica steps closer. A gentle hand on her shoulder lets her know what he wants and she goes to knees in front of him.

FP digs a condom out of his pocket and pulls his cock out. “Put it on and get to work, I assume you know what to do.”

Veronica takes the condom delicately, carefully not touching FP’s fingers. He chuckles at her look of disdain and hisses when she rolls the protection on with a less than gentle hand.

Veronica leans forward and takes his cock in her mouth. She sucks, bobbing her head over the first few inches. FP lets her get used to the motion, holding back her long dark hair with one of his hands so he has an unobstructed view of her lips wrapped around his cock.

The angle is awkward but he manages to palm her breast with his other hand. Veronica jerks back in surprise as he squeezes her flesh but she doesn’t go far with his hand cupping her head. His fingers are threaded through her hair still.

He takes advantage of that leverage, forcing her further down until his cock hits her throat and she chokes. FP pulls back, sliding just the tip in and out so she can breathe before thrusting in again. It doesn’t take long before Veronica’s tears spill over. FP wipes them away with his thumb gently.

“You’re doing real good sweetheart,” he coaxes. “Now we’re gonna do something else. Take off that pretty skirt and get up on my lap.”

Veronica stands, lets her skirt fall to the ground around her ankles. She clambers onto his lap and FP nudges her into position. Veronica straddles him, chest facing his. Her panties are black lace with a little bow at each hip.

“These are cute,” FP says, snapping the band. Veronica bites her lip, which only draws attention to how swollen it is after the cock sucking.

“Now,” FP says as he strokes the soft skin above her panties, “I can be a gentleman. Unlike that two-faced adultress you call a mother, I’m nothing but nice.” He squeezes Veronica’s breast again, plucking at a nipple until it hardens and she cries out.

FP strokes across her pussy, unsurprised to feel damp cotton. “Oh, you liked taking care of me, huh?” He questions, rubbing a bit more firmly. Veronica’s hips follow his movements, bearing down for more friction. FP chuckles against her soft skin.

He leans forward to take a breast in his mouth, laving at it as his hand moves aside the gusset and slides a finger into her. Veronica moans and clenches around him.

He doesn’t wait but a minute to push a second finger alongside the first, ignoring his own cock between them in favor of short, small thrusts into Veronica’s wet cunt.

“Yeah, you’ve been here before haven’t you?” FP murmurs to her chest. “Grinding down on some teenage boy, hoping he’ll have enough stamina before he blows his load that you’ll get off too. We both know it never works out like that, teenage boys are too eager.” He goes back to fondling her breasts with one hand, using his mouth on the other. His other hand continues driving into her with three fingers now, Veronica meeting him halfway as she shoves herself down on his fingers. She makes breathy sounds when the palm of his hand manages to hits her clit. FP thought she might be a screamer, but turns out he was wrong.

“You close?” FP asks calmly, like he isn’t affected by this teenage slut riding his fingers, in his lap. “You seem close.” He pinches her nipples, one after the other and Veronica shouts at the unexpected pain. “Yeah, you can take a little more.” Her eyes go from half-mast to wide in surprise as FP removes his fingers and pulls away from her body.

“Kneel,” FP orders and Veronica falls out of his lap with little grace and shaky legs.

She opens her mouth to ask something, most likely if she can come because FP got her all hot and bothered with no release, and FP reaches out, taps her jaw shut. “You’re not in charge tonight, Ms. Lodge. That’s the whole point.”

He strokes his cock, slaps it against her cheek. Veronica closes her eyes when he tilts her head toward the lamp to get a better look at his come on her tan skin. It looks good. He keeps pulling at himself, setting a quick pace. He’s got two more to see to after this.

FP doesn’t give her any warning, just paints stripes across her face and hair, Veronica’s chest with his come. It drips down, beading at her nipple and falling off one drop at a time.

Veronica stays on the carpet, shock written across her face even as her legs squirm together for release. FP pats her head as he stands up, walks across the small room to gather her discarded clothes.

“Get dressed, Ms. Lodge. We’re finished here.”


	2. Betty

“Come on, little Cooper,” FP calls out as Veronica steps gingerly down the steps. The come is drying in her hair already. It’s not visible through her clothes but FP likes the secret of knowing it’s there.

“Lodge, you can just stay in that circle and look real nice for the fellows. Keep that Blossom bitch company.” The Serpents laugh, leering at the come-covered girl.

Betty Cooper stumbles forward at her summons, brushing the gravel and dirt off her legs where she’d been sitting on the ground waiting. Her face is pale but resolute. FP wouldn’t expect any less from the girlfriend of his boy, the same girl who’d uncovered his cell phone and given little thought to extending an invite to a surprise party for his kid. She’s a good girl and FP means to reward her.

He also knows it won’t be seen as such, but in this matter – of honor, pride, the Jones’ reputation – his hands are just as tied as hers. Her parents cast them both into this mess through their publication of lies. FP grits his teeth when he thinks of Alice, all grown up and playing the housewife like she was born to the middle class of Riverdale instead of the trash heap that made its nest of the SouthSide.

“I think you’re old enough, Betty, to know how this usually works. Though how you haven’t been roped in before with some of the shit your father prints is beyond me.” FP itches for another beer but denies himself. Betty looks like a softer version of her mother, standing in his trailer in denim and an embroidered sweater.

“I think my mother went,” Betty volunteers, brow furrowed as she thinks back. “I was younger though, I don’t really remember.”

FP nods. He expected as much, not that it changes their position now. “The point is, what happens tonight is between us. Not anyone outside, not anyone in the town.” Betty nods. “So if we were to bend the rules, it’d be just fine and no one could say anything.” FP winks at the girl and her frown deepens.

“Hey, it’ll be alright. You’ll like this.” FP gives a bright smile and they stand there in silence until Betty gives a small nod in agreement.

“Just,” Betty’s voice is hesitant as she stops outside the door he leads her to. “Will it hurt? We couldn’t hear anything outside when you were with Veronica so-”

FP puts a hand on her shoulder. “No, Betty. I’m not gonna hurt you.” He promises. “I’d have a whole line of people ready to hurt me then, starting with my son.”

He opens the door to forestall the question he can see building about his son’s health. Betty had been there with FP to receive Jughead from the Blossom’s chauffeur but FP had sent her away after she’d helped bandage the worst marks.

“Juggie!” Betty breathes as she sees him, lying on his bed in the back of the trailer. He’s starting to stir, the haze of pain medication lifting. He looks worse than he did on the initial day, bruises darkening to deep purple-black and right ankle carefully braced on pillows. There’s more under his clothes but FP had gently helped him into his favorite checked shirt and basketball shorts for a sense of normalcy earlier in the day.

She crosses the room quickly and kneels at his bedside, taking his hand in both of hers. FP watches as his son lifts his head, blinks in the light and manages to focus on the blonde angel in front of him.

“Betty?” Jughead stares at her intensely. “I had a dream you were here.”

Betty nods shakily. She presses a kiss to Jughead’s palm before holding it against her own cheek. “Yeah, I was here. I had to leave for a little bit but I’m back now.”

Jughead blinks slowly, wincing at his bruises. He catches sight of FP standing in the doorway and his look darkens.

“No.” Jughead rasps out. “You said you’d leave her out of this.”

FP gives a Gallic shrug. “If I hadn’t, the whole town would be calling me soft. I can’t have that.”

Betty looks between the two, still on her knees. Jughead turns back to her. “I’m sorry, Betty.”

“It’s okay, Juggie. I understand.” She gives a tremulous smile and looks back at FP for the first time since he let her in the room.

“Thanks for letting me see him first,” Betty says quietly as she stands. Jughead doesn’t let go of her hand.

“Hey now, you’re still gonna be able to see him. I told you Betty Cooper, you’ll enjoy this.” FP can’t help but lick his lips at that statement because he’s also going to enjoy this a hell of a lot.

Jughead coughs, winces at the pain and still manages to look incredulous at his father’s insinuation.

“We can do this with you in the room, or not,” FP points out quietly to him Betty steps closer to her boyfriend before Jughead can say anything.

“Hey,” Jughead says, tugging on Betty’s hand as he speaks to get her attention back on him. “Hey, it’s gonna be fine. I’m gonna be right here, I won’t leave. I can’t, actually.” he corrects wryly.

“Right,” Betty agrees. She leans down to kiss him, gently because of the split lip. Jughead pulls her closer, not releasing her until they’re both panting for breath. “I love you.”

FP feels like a third wheel, standing in the doorway and watching this play out.

It’s hard to tell which Jones is more surprised when Betty stands up straight and looks FP in the eye. “You want me to strip all the way or just my jeans? I would like Jughead to stay in the room but he’s sort of on the only bed in the room.” Her pale hands twist in the hem of her grey sweater when she’s done speaking, betraying nerves that her voice didn’t show.

FP only laughs in response, because it’s clear she’s got the wrong impression of what FP’s planning to do.

“I figure you’d feel more comfortable not being totally naked but if you want to, go right ahead. Just lay against Jughead there and hook your legs over his. Watch that bum ankle though.” Jughead sits up and puts his pillows behind him for more support as he speaks. FP knew he was a bright kid.

Betty unbuttons her jeans and pushes them down her legs. Both Jones men watch raptly as she slides down her underwear and settles on the bed as FP instructed. It leaves her exposed and a faint blush begins to color on her cheeks despite her forthright attitude not a few minutes ago. 

Betty makes a movement to press her legs together but Jughead puts a hand on her thigh and wraps his other around her waist. He caresses the soft skin, pressing a kiss to her neck and Betty tilts her head back for more.

FP holds himself over the end of the bed, the end of the mattress cutting into his thighs. It’s not comfortable in the least but this won’t take long, he’s sure.

“Don’t hold my performance against my boy’s, now.” FP jokes as he leans closer to Betty’s cunt. “I’ve had a lot more practice than him.” Betty’s eyes widen as FP rubs over the crease of her thigh and outer lips with a finger then traces an idle pattern down her inner thigh toward her knee.

He follows the path with his mouth, feeling his beard scratch against her thighs. Betty squirms at the sensation and Jughead soothes her. FP takes the opportunity to nip gently and the girl jumps in surprise.

He returns to petting at her, a slow up and down over her slit. There’s some wetness gathering against the pad of his thumb as he strokes.

FP glances up quickly and sees his son’s got a hand under Betty’s top, fondling her breast. Her eyes are hooded as he whispers in her ear too low for FP to hear the words. He smiles to himself as he leans in and licks across her cunt with the flat of his tongue.

Betty’s body jerks and she lets out a rather loud exclamation as FP does it again. He avoids her clit for the moment, concentrating on alternating short licks with long over Betty’s cunt.

FP wonders if this is her first time being eaten out. He hums at the thought of being her first, knowing he’s good at this – he’s had no complaints over the years and he’s always been good with his mouth – and it makes Betty shout again.

FP isn’t so crass as to hum a song against her cunt just to make her come but the thought does cross his mind briefly. He returns to alternating licks, licking into her every third or so because she’s finally opened enough to let him in. He lifts his head from between her legs and Betty’s eyes open in a fierce look that says more than words could. One of her hands leaves its tight grip on Jughead’s hand and goes to FP’s head, pushing him back down before he can check in with her.

FP chuckles and that draws an even louder reaction from the girl. He licks and sucks, blowing a cool stream of air with pursed lips over her before he seals his lips around Betty’s engorged clit and sucks.

Betty’s hips jerk up and almost throw FP off the bed despite the hand on his head. Her noises, at least, are swallowed by Jughead’s mouth against her own. FP’s chin is wet. He circles one finger around her opening but doesn’t press in even as Betty’s body trembles for more.

Betty is close to coming, it shows in the clenching of her hands. FP concentrates on her clit, short licks across the nub and then around it in circles. It doesn’t take much more than that and Betty comes with her face tucked into the crook of Jughead’s neck.

FP thinks she may have bitten him, because that was a suspiciously quiet orgasm compared to how vocal she’d been earlier but if his boy isn’t complaining, he won’t say anything. He levers himself off the bed and wipes down his face with a hand.

Betty doesn’t look like she’s planning to move off Jughead any time soon, her legs still over his as she catches her breath. Jughead lifts a hand to brush some hair off her face and FP leaves the room.

He finds a clean rag in one of the kitchen drawers, notes wryly it was probably Betty who stuck it in there and washes his own hands in the kitchen sink as he’s waiting for the water to warm up. He sticks the towel under the running water, wrings it out and takes it back to Jughead’s bedroom.

Betty has, in fact, moved off his son. One of his t-shirts is covering her nakedness and he’s got his better arm wrapped around her waist loosely. They’re both talking quietly, faces pressed together. FP offers the makeshift washcloth to Betty but Jughead’s arm is longer and quicker than the time it takes her to shift onto her back and reach out.

“I can handle this,” Jughead tells him and FP nods. He hands over a pill he grabbed from the cabinet as an afterthought.

“Need some water?” 

“Nah,” Jughead denies, dry-swallowing it in one movement. “You gonna watch some more or you going to leave? I’m sure Cheryl can’t wait for your special brand of attention.” The sarcasm is heavy.

Betty doesn’t say anything to FP before he backs out, but does give him a small nod that Jughead doesn’t see, focused as he is on folding the damp cloth in his hand. FP nods back and locks them in the bedroom together.

He peeks through the blinds of the window in the main room before he steps through the door and calls up the Blossom firebrand. Veronica Lodge looks mighty unhappy, sitting on the ground with dark hair askew where she’d clearly attempted to wipe out his come. It hadn’t worked in the slightest and FP can’t help the smirk that pulls at his lips. He’d love to be a fly on the wall when she goes home to Hermione.

FP opens the door and stands there, surveying his Serpents and the two well-dressed teenage girls in the midst of leather and jeans.

“Ms. Lodge, thank you for your cooperation tonight. You were excellent.” He gives a lascivious grin to applause and cat-calls. “I suggest you head on home, the sun’ll be coming up soon.”

“Not without Betty!” the girl says with a scowl. The redhead beside her looks bored.

“Ms. Cooper is recovering,” FP reassures her in a tone that is anything but. His voice doesn’t invite further questions and she seems to take the hint. Her fingers fly across the keys of her cell phone to call her mother’s driver, FP is sure.

“I’ve got one more thing to see to tonight, gentlemen and ladies,” FP turns his attention to his loyal Serpents, still gathered. He does have a few females who ride, though that fact usually passes by the good folk of Riverdale when they’re cursing out the club. “I would like to thank you all for your duty tonight, drinks are on me next time you see me.” That gets the expected amount of cheers. Veronica takes this opportunity to weave her way amongst the bikers to the edge of the trailer park, closer to the stretch of main road that passes by the eastern edge of the property. FP cuts his eyes back to his group of friends, fellow members as she disappears into the darkness.

“You all can split,” FP tells them as he walks down the steps and closer to the sole girl remaining. “I can handle it from here.” It takes little time for the Serpents to disperse and then it’s a Jones and a Blossom, an ugly cycle FP can’t seem to break free from.


	3. Cheryl

FP stares at her, a slip of a girl in the gloaming.

He reaches out to take her arm and she lets him, passive and unresistant. He hauls her up the steps and shuts the door behind them. He wants to slam it but resists, for Jughead's in the other room, hopefully asleep.

"You've done this before, I take it?" and it's both a question and a statement. Cheryl, like the girls before her, stands in the middle of the living room. Her puffy winter jacket is already lying on the floor. FP walks up behind her, cups her handful of breast with one hand and uses it to pull her body against his.

"How long are we going to be?" Cheryl finally speaks and she might have the unaffected drawl down but FP's a master of presenting one image to the world, feeling another. Her pulse is pounding against the hand he has wrapped loosely around her throat.

"That's not up to you, sweetheart. You should be able to walk by the time I'm through with you." He squeezes her breast, fondling it through the thin blouse. Cheryl isn't wearing a bra and FP wonders if she bothered to wear underwear.

He slides the hand down slowly, from her pale throat to skate across her nipple and over a flat stomach. FP cups her cunt through the skirt before pulling it up, cupping her through soft underwear. He grinds against her ass as he pulls at her other nipple with his thumb and finger.

"Should?" Cheryl asks archly. "I'd expect nothing less of a man who puts himself before family." She gyrates against his rapidly hardening cock.

"You want to talk about family?" FP jerks the girl up to her toes, spinning her around to face him and slamming her against the fake wood of the trailer's wall. "Your family is the one that started this entire mess. But I guess they don't have a McMansion to go home to, considering the males of the Blossom line are dead and you burned down the family home."

Cheryl doesn't say anything to that, blinking back tears. FP doesn't feel sorry for her, he knows a con when he sees one. This girl has been crying on cue, or to get herself ahead, as soon as she figured out how. She doesn't fight the hand around her throat and that's most telling of all.

FP lets her drop to the carpet and waits half a second for her to find her feet before pushing her over the side of the couch arm. Her red hair covers her face and Cheryl tries to push herself off the cushion. FP puts a hand the small of her back and holds her in that position.

"I'm planning to make that pretty little ass of yours match your hair, Cheryl. There's no two ways about that. However, I'm feeling generous. You can do this over the couch or over my lap. What's it gonna be?"

Cheryl huffs irritably though it seems more focused on blowing the strands of hair out of her face than a wordless commentary. FP palms her ass as he waits, presented as it is over the couch arm. She stays silent and so FP decides for her, giving her a light spank as he walks the length of her body and sits on the couch.

“You seem like you got spanked as a little girl, brat that you are now.” FP says, patting his thigh. “C’mon now.”

It takes effort for Cheryl not to respond or roll her eyes, he can tell. She pushes herself up and crawls toward him, over him. FP helps her settle by holding her arms at her back.

He pushes her skirt up to her waist, rubbing his hand over her thigh and tracing the line of her underwear. It’s black with a lacy edge.

“On or off,” he muses out loud, snapping the elastic band. Cheryl squawks but doesn’t squirm at the sting and FP smirks. He taps her thigh as he slides them down and she lifts herself up, leaving the panties dangling from a slim ankle. FP leaves them there for the time being.

He doesn’t give any warning before raising his hand and bringing it down on her ass. It’s not full force, he’s not a total monster and she is still a relatively young girl. Nonetheless, it almost immediately pinks her milky white skin and Cheryl obviously grits her teeth at the sound that wants to escape.

FP spanks her again on the opposite cheek, liking the symmetry. He delivers another hit, then another. Cheryl lets out a soft sound when FP’s hand strikes across the crease of her thigh and ass. FP spanks her again in the same spot and she makes another sound. He pauses and grabs the dangling underwear off her foot. He balls it up in his hand and stuffs it in Cheryl’s mouth.

“Keep them there,” FP orders. He spanks her in quick succession, alternating cheeks. Her ass is darkening from a pink blush to hot red.

“Tender, huh?” FP asks conversationally as the flat of his hand makes contact with where he just hit and Cheryl pushes her head into the cushion in front of her face in response. He doesn’t think it’s to hide tears though he does mean to draw them from her before the end of their time together. “I want you to think about this when you sit down tomorrow, and the day after. Hell, you’ll be feeling this all week I bet. I gotta know,” he asks even though FP knows Cheryl won’t, can’t answer, gagged as she is. “Were you there when your mother was taking out her anger on my boy?” He spanks her with a little more force, increasing the pace of each hit as he continues asking, “Did you watch as he cried? Did you enjoy it? I heard about your little fight in the lunch room last month, Cheryl.” He punctuates her name by spanking her bare cunt and Cheryl shrieks around the panties in her mouth.

FP chuckles and resumes spanking her ass. She’s finally squirming, legs crossed at the ankles and pressed against the arm of the couch to stop herself from kicking out. His blows are starting to make themselves felt in the palm of his hand but FP doesn’t stop.

He tightens the hand he’s got holding her arms back and strikes the crease of her thighs again and again until they’re the same color as her ass. FP pauses again, letting Cheryl get used to the pain. She makes a questioning noise when FP doesn’t start again.

He lets go of her wrists, running his hand over her ass cheeks. The skin is hot to the touch and Cheryl moans when FP squeezes the abused flesh.

“Hold yourself open, Cheryl.” FP orders, pinching the soft skin of her labia between two fingers. She jumps at the pain and looks up at him, brown eyes wide and wet. He gives a short nod coupled with a glare and Cheryl reaches back to spread her pussy open with trembling fingers.

FP spanks her cunt, not caring if he catches her fingers in the process. He’s swift, not raising his hand very far between blows. He’s got enough strength in his right arm he doesn’t need the distance to get force, not when he’s delivering hits to her most sensitive area. 

“Real nice of you to shave this,” FP says as he pinches again in between slaps. Her cunt is bright red and Cheryl’s sobbing is audible through the makeshift gag. “Makes it more sensitive, it’s like you knew I was gonna spank you bare. I appreciate it.” FP gets six more spanks of her pussy before Cheryl’s hand is in the way, covering herself from his punishment. FP stops spanking her and returns to holding her wrists in one hand. His other hand rubs the sting away, making sure to catch her clit with each pass of his hand. Cheryl’s not wet, not with the hurt he’s just delivered but her clit is easy to find at the bottom of neatly trimmed red curls.

FP reaches over to the end table and grabs the empty beer bottle from earlier in the day. He moves quickly, opening a condom and rolling it down the neck before Cheryl can catch sight of what he’s got planned. He spits on it in lieu of any lube. She doesn’t seem to realize what he’s doing until he presses the neck of the glass bottle against her hot cunt and shoves it in.

Cheryl gives a muffled yelp of surprise and pain as the bottle penetrates her.

FP holds onto the end of the condom as he thrusts the bottle into her pussy, pressing her wrists down as her body jerks. He pushes the tapered neck further in to where the bottle widens and watches as Cheryl’s opening accepts it. FP pulls it out to the rim slowly and presses back in, getting a half inch of the beer bottle’s widest part inside Cheryl before he removes it completely.

Cheryl spits out her own underwear and cranes her neck to look at his face. “What the hell was that?” she says. Neither of them draws attention to the tear tracks trickling down.

FP lifts the beer bottle into her sight line and grins filthily. Cheryl sputters in shock. FP smacks her thigh, lightly compared to the spanking from earlier. He watches her shift on his lap, red hair disheveled and makeup smeared.

“You look good like this,” FP says. He slides his hand under her slim body and hauls her upright. Cheryl quickly gets her legs under her and stands before him. Her expensive skirt is still hiked up to showcase her shaved cunt. It’s red from his abuse but her clit is starting to peek out, dark and swollen. FP licks his lips, gaze caught on the small bud. He’s certain she doesn’t taste as sweet as wholesome little Cooper and he has no interest in even tasting to compare the two.

“You’re a cheerleader, right?” FP says, even though he already knows the answer.

“Yes, I am. Well, I was.” Cheryl confirms. Her voice shows the slightest hint of strain.

FP nods. “Strip and bend over the kitchen counter.”

Cheryl looks nervous and her hands go to cover her reddened ass. “You won’t-” she starts and FP chuckles.

“No, I’m not going to spank you again. We’re done with that. Now strip.” He reaches out and tears her blouse down at the collar to help her along. The bright buttons give under the force, one or two popping off and rolling on the carpet of the trailer. Cheryl closes her eyes for a long blink and then takes the hem of her ruined top in her hands to lift it off herself.

FP watches her strip with trembling hands as he unzips his fly and the button. He wishes he’d thought to have a belt handy when he’d been spanking her, but he’ll take a sore hand any day of the week when it results in her reddened ass. He gets a good look at his handiwork when Cheryl turns away to put her blouse and skirt near the trailer’s door. FP feels the warmth of pride fill him just by looking at her skin and the languid strokes he’s been giving his cock speed up.

He’s hard enough now to fuck her and he means to. FP puts a condom on, thinks about taunting Cheryl but the girl is already leaning against the Formica counter, ass on display yet again. It’s a sight FP could look at for a time to come.

As if she knows his thought pattern, Cheryl’s voice breaks in to admonish “No pictures, I’m still underage here.”

“Believe me sweetheart,” FP says as he crosses the small divide between living room and kitchen. “I’m not soon forgetting that fact.”

He uses a heavy hand between her shoulder blades to press her against the counter, taking a small delight in her wince the cool counter brings when her breasts are laid against it.

FP slaps his cock against her ass, presses the mushroom head against her pink slit and rubs it up and down. He spits and watches it slide downward with a lecherous grin.

“Are you going to fuck me or what?” Cheryl finally asks with exasperation clear in her voice. “This isn’t how I pictured my first time, though you’ve got the same hair color as my teen idol who I always thought would deflower me.” It seems the minutes without FP driving the pace of the punishment have given her leeway to voice her sarcasm.

“Oh, I’m going to fuck you.” FP promises darkly and thrusts his cock into her cunt. He’s swallowed by tight heat and he groans in counterpoint to Cheryl’s loud shriek. He stills after he’s pushed the last inch or two into her body, lets Cheryl get used to the intrusion. She gives a hiccuping gasp and FP takes it as the sign she can handle more.

FP pulls out completely, watches her hole flutter and shoves back inside the warmth. He starts a rhythm of full long strokes, pulling back far enough to see the head of his cock stretch her before pushing in to the hilt again.

Cheryl’s all gasps and moans, biting into her own arm to muffle them. She moves with his rhythm, pressing back on his cock. FP isn’t sure it’s not just to get it over with rather than the fact she’s enjoying herself, but doesn’t let that dim his pleasure. He fucks Cheryl roughly, balls slapping against her abused cunt with every thrust.

FP keeps one hand on Cheryl’s shoulder, keeping her against the kitchen counter. He slides the other from her hip to her reddened ass cheek, squeezing and taking a dark delight in the jump of pain the girl gives. His hand wanders down further to where his cock presses in and he uses the pad of his thumb to rub at the skin of her taint.

“Not my ass, please.” Cheryl lifts her head up and pleads. It sounds genuine. FP’s thumb presses lightly against the puckered muscle; with a little application of pressure he would be in both holes.

He drags his finger downwards to where his cock breaches her instead and rubs at the stretched hole that swallows his cock. It’s a tight fit to get his finger in next to his cock but FP manages to slip the tip in. Cheryl cries out loudly, sobbing anew as FP starts a slow and steady fucking with his finger in counterpoint as he works it in to the knuckle.

“It hurts,” Cheryl whimpers. “Please, no more.”

FP ignores her and works another finger in beside his cock with the same steady patience. If anything, he’s gotten only harder feeling the warmth of her cunt against his callused fingers. 

“Please stop,” Cheryl gasps as FP withdraws his cock and spreads her pussy open with his fingers. He pushes three in at once, short harsh jabs that squelch with her juices.

“I don’t think your mother did, not until she broke my son’s ankle.” FP reminds her with a growl in his voice. He thrusts his cock in again, once and then twice just to feel the heat one last time before stripping the condom and dropping it in the sink.

It takes three quick pulls of his cock before he’s coming, jacking off on her punished ass and striping up her back. Cheryl lies very still over the kitchen counter until FP’s finished working it into her bright red hair.

FP tucks himself away and zips up his fly. “Get out of my sight,” he orders. “Stay the hell away from my son and his girl from now on.”

Cheryl nods, shaky and tear-stained. Her nipples are pebbled from the cold counter and the friction of their coupling. FP watches silently as she pulls on the skirt and the torn blouse, wincing at the feel of the material over her punished skin. Cheryl doesn’t look back as she slips out the door of the trailer.

FP remembers to unlock Jughead’s bedroom door on the way to the shower and considers the night a success. He hasn’t had to participate in this Riverdale tradition for some years and it’s worn him out. He plans to sleep until at least noon and hopes he’ll have a dreamless sleep.


End file.
